


The Right Thing

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [26]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Crying Keith (Voltron), Dissociation, Dubious Morality, Gen, Guns, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Killing, Lance is mean but he's having a morality crisis, Missions Gone Wrong, Prompt: Sadistic Choice, Protective Keith (Voltron), Self-Hatred, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shock, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: In war, is there even such thing as "the right thing"?
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554010
Comments: 18
Kudos: 243
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	The Right Thing

Since they’d come to space, Keith had spent a lot of time thinking about Shiro-- specifically, Shiro’s missing year. He refused to talk about it (what he could remember, anyway), so Keith had to imagine how bad it was, the worst things his imagination could conjure up, so that if one day Shiro did open up, he wouldn’t be caught off guard. Thus, it would follow that he’d spent a lot of time thinking about the arena. Hours, in fact. 

But the actual arena was far worse than he’d ever imagined. 

It was huge, a sea of blinding white sand, surrounded by rows of metal stands stretching stories high. The harsh lighting above gave the sand its glare, and it absorbed the heat of the thousands of spectators crowding the seats, dousing Keith in sweat. The roar of that massive crowd was deafening and dizzying, but even that wasn’t enough sound to drown it out when the speakers blared their message. 

“Citizens of the Galra Empire,” cried the announcer. “Today we gather to witness the fall of Voltron!” 

The crowd erupted in cheers. Keith wanted to duck his head, to hide-- he knew they were being recorded, broadcast to the whole of the empire-- but that would require looking away from the massive screen hanging in front of him. It hung directly above the Emperor’s throne, depicting his scarred face to his subjects. Over his right shoulder stood Shiro, pale and unsteady, a soldier’s blade pressed underneath his chin. 

“Today our illustrious Emperor will reveal the true nature of the myth-- of the  _ lie,  _ of Voltron.”

He paused purposefully for applause, and the crowd didn’t disappoint. Keith just stood there, all of his armor stripped away save for the undersuit, and stared up at Shiro. He wouldn’t be able to see it at this distance, but even so Keith tried to convey how sorry he was. 

What had he been thinking? He couldn’t take on Zarkon alone. Not even the other four original Paladins had been able to do it, so what chance did he have? All he accomplished was getting himself and Shiro captured on what was supposed to be a rescue mission. Now Shiro would pay for his arrogance. And he wasn’t the only one.

“The Red Paladin now has a choice before him. He can kill the three prisoners before him, saving the life of his commander and betraying the ideals Voltron has assumed for thousands of years.”

The crowd booed and hissed. Keith felt a drop of sweat run down his throat and made himself breathe. 

“Or he can spare three innocent lives, at the cost of the Black Paladin’s life, and Voltron’s last hope of defying the Empire.”

Cheers, the loudest yet. All of the noise banging around the metal ship made it hard to think, and Shiro’s expression wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t determined, or terrified, or defiant, or anything that could’ve told Keith which decision he should make. It was just blank, like he’d retreated into himself, and wasn’t processing any stimuli his brain was giving him. 

Keith was on his own. 

“At the Emperor’s word, the trial will begin.”

For the first time, the arena fell completely silent, every person hanging on Zarkon’s reaction. Keith clenched his sweaty palm around the grip of the blaster in his right hand. 

Zarkon waited a few moments for dramatic effect. Every second that ticked by made the knots in Keith’s stomach twist tighter. Until, eventually, he said, “Decide, Paladin.”

He felt the weight of every single pair of eyes as they turned to him. His throat was dry, his hands shaking, but he had to try and think. The others would be coming for them, Shiro was too important to lose, he just had to buy them enough time to get there. So, hoping they had microphones in the pit itself, he cleared his throat. 

“The other Paladins are coming for us. You won’t get away with this!” He kept his eyes on Shiro’s face as he spoke, but there was no indication that he’d been heard. 

Zarkon, however, had, and merely responded, “Set the timer.”

A second later a timer appeared on the screen, superimposed over Shiro and Zarkon’s faces in red numbers: 100. 

“You have one dobosh to decide,” Zarkon intoned, and with an ominous sounding  _ click,  _ the numbers began to run down. 

For a moment Keith was frozen in his panic. Heart in his throat, he looked down at the three figures kneeling on the sand before him, all dressed in the Galra prisoner uniform, all bowing their heads in submission. One was crying, another murmuring softly under their breath, but none tried to run or fight. They’d already been broken and, like Keith, knew there was nowhere to run to. 

He couldn’t do it. They were  _ innocent.  _ But when he looked back up at the screen, ten ticks had already gone by. 




Zarkon was out of his range with this dinky little blaster, even if he ran all the way to the very edge of the arena. He didn’t have his knife or his bayard. If he made a break for one of the gates, he knew neither Zarkon nor the guard holding Shiro would hesitate to cut his throat. A flash of it darted across his mind-- Shiro, lifeless, red spilling down his chest-- and bile climbed up Keith’s throat. 

70.

He looked back down at the prisoners, his hand unconsciously tightening around the blaster. What would the others think if he did this? Just a few hours earlier Hunk had said he was cold hearted, and Lance had accused him of being too afraid to do what was right. 




What was right? Then, Lance had been angry because he suggested leaving Allura behind. So maybe he’d understand this, since it was to save Shiro, but something told him that wouldn’t be the case. 

55.

What would his father have done? He’d died saving the innocent-- surely he would never condone this. The Keith he knew would never have even considered it-- but that Keith didn’t exist anymore. That version of him had been a naive kid who had no idea how harsh and lonely the world really was. 




Shiro was the Black Paladin. They couldn’t lose him. Keith couldn’t lose him. Not again. 




Keith finally breathed, his lungs aching for air. Dust coated his tongue as he adjusted his grip. The alien before him noticed and slowly looked up, cheeks stained with lavender tears that ran from one emerald eye. 




“Please,” they whispered. “I have a daughter.”

He was feeling sick again, but he fought it down. He couldn’t fail Shiro, no matter what.




“I’m sorry.”

The alien’s face crumpled, and that was the last thing Keith saw before closing his eyes and turning his head away. Even in his mind, he could see the bloody numbers ticking down. 




He raised the blaster.

He pulled the trigger. 

The crowd in the stands exploded into raucous cheering. Between that and the roar of blood in his ears, Keith couldn’t remember hearing the sound of the blast or the soft thump of the body hitting the sand. 

He looked up, squinting to see the screen against the glare. The numbers were still counting down. 

Keith didn’t even bother to read how long he had left. He moved mechanically; turned, fired, turned, fired, and two more bodies fell. One’s blue skin flashed and turned orange, and the other folded in on itself like a collapsing house of cards. 

He looked back up at the screen. Shiro still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t made a single expression. Keith looked away, letting the blaster fall from his numb, buzzing fingertips. Whatever victorious speech the announcer gave, Keith didn’t hear it. He just stood and waited until the guards came to collect him, and as he was hauled back to his cell, he could only make one thought stand still long enough to parse.

_ What have I done?  _

* * *

The cell was small and dark. Keith sat in a corner with his arms wrapped around his knees. He was tired, he wanted to sleep, but if he closed his eyes he just knew he’d see the bodies, or even worse, Shiro’s blank face, staring right through him. 

So he sat and waited. His brain was beginning to wake up again after God knows how long, but all of his thoughts felt far away and unimportant. 

He thought about the others, wondered if they would come or not. He thought about Shiro, hoped the Galra weren’t hurting him. But most of his being was wrapped up in the present moment-- the punishing dark and confinement.

It seemed apt that the one punishment that had worked on him as a kid would be the one used after the most irredeemable act of his life. 

Something nudged at the back of his mind. Probably Red, but Keith shut her out. She would be angry with him. He couldn’t bear it. 

There were footsteps in the hallway. Keith gnawed the inside of his lip and didn’t move. It was most likely guards coming to escort him to execution-- Zarkon had made his point, he had no reason to keep him or Shiro alive any longer. 

The footsteps paused outside of his cell door. But instead of the expected beep and swish, there was a clang, a grunt of effort, then the whole door came crashing down. 

The Princess stood on the other side, panting with exertion. The sight of her jarred Keith back into his body. 

“Allura?” His voice came out in a harsh croak. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” she responded as she strode across the cell towards him. She extended a hand to him. “Hurry, we don’t have long.”

Keith automatically took it, allowing her to pull him to his feet. The Princess rushed back to the cell door, peeked down the hallway both ways, then gestured for Keith to follow and darted back out. Keith followed on trembling legs. 

“What about Shiro?” he whispered. They were making good time; judging by the various drone parts littered across the floor, this was the route Allura had taken to get in. 

“Lance is getting him,” Allura answered without looking back. “Hunk and Pidge are retrieving your armor.”

They came to a crossroads. Allura gestured for him to stop before carefully peering around the corner. 

“How did you even get in here?” It still didn’t seem real-- maybe he had fallen asleep in the cell and was dreaming the whole thing. 

The sound of frustration Allura made seemed real. “We don’t have time to explain everything!” she snapped back at him. “By the Ancients, you earthlings never stop talking!”

Keith finally got the hint and shut his mouth. Once he did, he found that the answers didn’t actually concern him that much. The whole situation felt so unreal, it was easy to step back and just watch things as they unfolded, a passenger in his own body. 

Allura didn’t take him to the escape pods. Instead she led him to a hangar, the remains of four drones clustered around the door as evidence of her passing, where a very familiar Lion sat waiting. 

“Did you fly Red?” he blurted out. This time Allura didn’t get annoyed; she just shook her head. 

“She went after you on her own. I was just a passenger. Now hurry, we only have thirty ticks left before Pidge’s cloaking runs out.”

Keith’s head was spinning, but when Allura took off at a run he followed without thinking. The moment he set foot inside he felt Red’s presence wash over him and flinched, expecting to be burned with her rage, but that wasn’t what Red was showing him. This was softer, like she was being careful with him. 

He didn’t have time to ponder it further. He immediately threw himself down in the pilot’s seat and took the controls. Red rumbled beneath him in anticipation, then they melted a hole through the hangar door and took off at what felt like light speed. 

“Huh,” murmured Allura at his side. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Keith didn’t answer. He was staring down at the hands gripping Red’s controls. They were his hands, weren’t they? They had to be. But they looked so strange, so separate from himself. Was this even his body?

Red rumbled again, brushing over Keith’s mind with a hint of concern. But it was the voices on the comms that finally got his attention. 

“Have you retrieved Shiro?” Allura was asking, leaning over Keith’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I got him,” said Lance. Keith was still aware enough of himself to feel his muscles relax in relief. “We’re heading back to the Castle now.”

“Good. Hunk, Pidge?”

“On our way, Princess,” answered Pidge. “All pieces of armor recovered, bayard included.”

“Well done. Coran, is the Black Lion still in her hangar?”

“Yes, Princess.” 

“Excellent. Please make sure the teladuv is operational before reporting to the infirmary. It’s going to be close.”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Wait,” Hunk said. “What about Keith? You there, buddy?”

“I’m here,” Keith heard himself say, and was gifted with several sighs of relief from the comms. 

Red was flying fast, and within another minute they were arriving at the Castle, being protected by its particle barrier. It opened for them and Keith landed Red in her hangar. In truth, it was more like Red landed herself, but it didn’t matter. The second they were still Allura was gone, running towards the bridge as fast as she could go, leaving Keith sitting in Red’s pilot seat, numb from shock. 

Was he really back? Had any of it actually happened? Had he really killed three people? He looked down at his hands again. Red’s lighting made his skin look pink, and despite the white knuckled grip he had on the controls, he still noticed how they trembled. He couldn’t remember if they’d done the same when he held the blaster.

He didn’t want to think about it. Just that reminder made the bottom of his stomach drop out, made his heart pound against his breastbone like it wanted to shatter it. But how could he not when the lights in the hangar were just like the ones in the arena--

Another growl from Red. This one was accompanied by a tug on his mind, like she was trying to drag him back to reality. 

Keith forced himself to stand. He was unsteady, not all there, but he had to move. He had to see if Shiro was ok. So he made his slow, shaking way down Red’s ramp, ignoring her attempts to draw him back in, and exited the hangar. 

The halls were eerily empty and silent. It felt like a dream. Until he made it to the infirmary, just as the Castle gave its telltale jolt of entering a wormhole. 

Everyone was in there except Allura. But Keith only saw Shiro, sitting on a cot with a hand pressed to his side, waiting for Coran to finish programming the pod. 

“Shiro!”

Everyone jumped at his voice as he rushed across the room towards Shiro. Keith intended to go for a hug, presence of the others be damned, but right in front of the cot he pulled up short, his brain flicking from relief to fear like a light switch. 

What if Shiro was angry with him? Shiro was so  _ good,  _ even after everything he’d been through he was still so kind, so loving-- and he’d had to watch Keith kill three people right in front of him. God, he was probably disgusted-- he was just staring at Keith, just like he had in the arena. But he couldn’t just say nothing. 

“Are-- are you ok? Did you get hurt?”

Shiro blinked, then (to Keith’s relief) grimaced a bit and nodded. “The witch got me, but it’s not that bad.”

“Keith.”

He looked down to find Pidge standing next to him, a familiar black sheath in her hands. “Found it with your armor,” she said. She looked exhausted. “Figured it was yours.”

Keith took it, not quite able to manage a smile. “Thanks.”

Pidge nodded to him. Keith turned back to Shiro, knife gripped tightly in his hands. His heart was still beating a million times a minute, but the way Shiro was acting, slowly coming back to himself, was reassuring. 

Keith hadn’t noticed, but the entire time Lance and Hunk had been standing in a corner, muttering to each other in low tones. Just as Shiro was opening his mouth to say something to him, Lance started in their direction, his loud footsteps making them both jump. 

Keith’s stomach dropped again at the expression on Lance’s face. It was dark as a storm cloud, and Hunk looked terrified as he hurried along behind, hissing Lance’s name in increasing urgency that didn’t slow the Blue Paladin’s pace at all as he stormed across the room. 

“How  _ could  _ you?” 

Keith couldn’t think of an answer. Lance was loud and dramatic even on the best of days, but Keith had never seen him genuinely angry before, and it gave his voice such an edge that it scrambled his thoughts. 

“Lance,” Pidge said, grabbing his arm. “Do you have to do this now?” She flicked her eyes in Shiro’s direction, indicating how he’d gone stock-still, but Lance’s eyes never left Keith as he yanked his arm away. 

“What other time is there?” he snarled, then continued before Pidge could retort. “Well? I asked you a question.”

_ Oh God, please, not now.  _ He wasn’t ready for this conversation, not when there was still adrenaline in his system. 

“I-- I don’t--”

“Don’t even try,” Lance interrupted. “We all saw the broadcast.”

The adrenaline ignited. The doors in Keith’s mind slammed down, the walls rose up-- he crossed his arms and scowled at the floor, his old companion anger taking hold of him with a vise grip. 

Like this he could fight back. And as long as he could fight back, no one could really hurt him. 

“Then you already know what happened.”

“Yeah, we saw you kill innocent people!” Lance was right in his face now, eyes blazing with fury. Keith stamped out the urge to deck him and run, but he couldn’t stop his hands from curling into fists against his sides, the hilt of his knife pressing painfully into his ribs. 

“I did what I had to,” he answered through gritted teeth. “To save Shiro.”

Lance scoffed in utter derision. “Don’t pin this on him. You’re the one who decided to pull the trigger.” 

“You weren’t there!” Keith shouted back. “I didn’t have a choice!”

“There’s always a choice!”

Keith’s skin flushed with heat. Hunk again tried to get Lance’s attention, as did Pidge, but Lance wasn’t having it. Coran stayed facing the pod, keeping the hell out of dodge. Shiro just sat there, the same blank expression on his face, and Keith’s protective anger flared into rage. 

“Those were  _ innocent people,  _ Keith! How can you not understand that? They were prisoners! They had families out there somewhere that will never see them again, all because of you!” He gave Keith a hard shove. He staggered back a single step, and the only thing that saved Lance from a broken nose right then was Pidge, throwing herself between them to keep them apart. But she couldn’t stop the words leaving their mouths. 

“I know,” Keith tried to say, but Lance cut him off once again. 

“You traded three lives for one. How is that fair? How is it right?”

“Shiro’s the Black Paladin! We need him to stop Zarkon, or he’ll kill  _ billions  _ more innocents. You want that instead?”

“Don’t pretend you did this for Voltron. You did it for Shiro, because you couldn’t stand the idea of losing him again. You killed  _ three people  _ because you’re just that selfish!”

“Lance!” Pidge pushed her full weight against Lance’s abdomen, managing to get him to back up three steps despite him still struggling to move forward. 

Hunk put a hand on Lance’s shoulder and helped hold him back. “He doesn’t mean it,” he said in an attempt at mediation. “He’s just upset.”

After a few more seconds of fighting their holds, Lance gave up and allowed Hunk to pull him back. Keith was vibrating, bracing for the moment when Lance rushed him, but Lance was just shaking his head, a cruel, sardonic smile plastered on his face. 

“Man, I knew you weren’t a great person, but I didn’t know you were a monster.”

“Enough!”

Allura’s voice split the air like a knife. Keith whirled, heart hammering, to find her standing in the doorway. He had no idea how long she’d been there, but her tired, sad, irritated expression said it was long enough. 

“This arguing is pointless,” the Princess continued as she walked over to the group. “What’s done is done. What we need to focus on now is laying low and getting back on our feet.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “What? How-- you can’t be serious! You can’t just be ok with this! It’s-- it’s-- inexcusable! Keith’s a murderer!”

Keith didn’t let himself flinch. But on the inside, he knew that word would come back to haunt him. 

Allura just sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Lance, I understand why you’re upset. In a perfect universe you would be right-- the deaths of innocents is inexcusable. But this isn’t a perfect universe.” 

There were tears in her eyes when she looked up. 

“It’s been ten  _ thousand  _ years. The number of people Zarkon has killed and enslaved in that amount of time can never be comprehended. Keith was right-- without the five of you, he’ll never be stopped. There comes a time when morals must be set aside in favor of practicality.”

Lance shook his head hard, his voice sounding choked as he answered, “No, I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

There was a retort on the tip of Keith’s tongue, a bitter  _ and you think I did?  _ But he bit it back. The angry aura in the room had been diffused, leaving behind only exhaustion and tired horror. 

“It’s war, Lance,” mumbled Pidge despondently. 

“None of us signed up for it,” agreed Hunk. This time Lance accepted it when Hunk wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

There was a series of light taps, then Coran’s voice said softly, “What happened today was a tragedy. But if we wish to succeed, we must move forward.”

Keith let out a heavy breath. The anger had burned away all of the adrenaline, and now all he felt was tired. Tired, numb, and a hollow knowledge that he’d crossed a point of no return. No matter what happened, he’d never be able to forget their faces. He was lucky that the memories were too foggy to recall for the moment. 

Lance cast desperate eyes around the room, looking for anyone to share his feelings, and found Shiro still sitting on the cot, frozen, watching the scene unfold with analyzing eyes. 

“Shiro, you have to say something. You have to know that it’s wrong.”

Shiro shrugged mechanically. His voice was dull and monotone when he said, “How could I? I did the same thing Keith did, but I didn’t have Voltron as an excuse. I just did it because I didn’t want to die.”

Utter silence. A tear streaked down Lance’s cheek. Yet again, Keith wondered if any of it was real. Then Coran cleared his throat and stepped forward to take Shiro’s arm. “Come along, we need to get you fixed up.”

Shiro complied without a word. The rest of them scattered, avoiding each other's eyes, and Keith found himself retreating to his bunk. 

He would be back when Shiro was healed. Until then, he needed to get some rest. 

* * *

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Keith turned, unsurprised to see Shiro standing in the doorway. He looked back up at the star map without saying anything. 

Shiro had gotten out of the pod a few hours before, but almost immediately ordered everyone to bed; probably to get himself some time to recover from everything that had happened. Keith had gone to the bridge instead. He’d tried sleeping while Shiro was healing, and to say that it hadn’t gone well would be putting it lightly. 

Shiro’s footsteps crossed the floor. He sat cross-legged in a mimic of Keith’s position, close enough that their knees overlapped, and for the moment said nothing, just gazed at the star map the same way Keith was. He’d pulled up the map Allura had shown them on their first day-- the known universe, bathed in red. 

Keith kept trying to justify it to himself. Looking at all of the solar systems Zarkon had conquered, all of the planets, all of the civilizations, all of the  _ people--  _ stopping an enemy this powerful required sacrifices. But those who call for sacrifices usually meant that they should be made by others, and that’s exactly what Keith had done. 

He didn’t mean to say anything out loud, but the words slipped out regardless, though at the lowest possible volume. “Is Lance right?”

Keith felt Shiro’s eyes turn to him. He swallowed hard, then continued, “Am I… Am I a monster?”

“Maybe,” said Shiro. Out of the corner of his eye Keith saw him shrug. “But that makes me a monster, too.”

Keith sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired, but everytime he closed them he saw purple tears. “He was right, though. I had a choice. I didn’t have to kill them.”

“What else could you have done?” Shiro asked, making it Keith’s turn to shrug half-heartedly. 

“Could’ve shot myself instead.”

Shiro immediately put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t say things like that. You’re just as important to Voltron as I am.”

Keith just rubbed a hand over his mouth and said nothing. His eyes felt hot, but no tears made themselves known. He was just too tired for them. 

Shiro sighed and moved his hand, wrapping his arm around Keith in a half hug. All Keith wanted was to melt into it and sleep until the knot of guilt in his stomach undid itself, but he knew he couldn’t. 

“Sometimes,” Shiro began softly. “Nobody is right. Sometimes there is no way out, no lesser evil. Sometimes there’s just survival.” By the way his voice was shaking Keith assumed that was something he told himself a lot, and his prosthetic hand was curling and uncurled in slow fists in his lap. 

Finally, Keith gave up. He drew his knees to his chest and leaned into Shiro’s embrace. He rested his head atop Keith’s, and for a few minutes there was a heavy silence. 

Until Shiro said, murmuring into Keith’s hair, “Thank you.”

Keith sniffled. “For what?”

“For saving my life.”

That cracked him. One tear streaked down his face, then another, and another, and then he was sobbing into Shiro’s chest, clutching at him desperately as his heaving breaths threatened to shake him apart. 

“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Shiro didn’t say anything. He just stayed and held him, never letting go. 

**Author's Note:**

> And there ya have it, the second bingo card. Took me three times as long as the first one but school and a global pandemic will do that to you. Stay tuned for the Gentron Week event at the beginning of August (to be closely followed by the next multi-chap fic)


End file.
